


code Capybara

by taonsils (mirokkuma)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, M/M, Sexuality Crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 11:37:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8012137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirokkuma/pseuds/taonsils
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>Prompt Code: P032</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Chanyeol's never liked to ask why his boss has a detailed pizza slice tattooed on the back of his hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	code Capybara

**Author's Note:**

> I totally ran away with this super cute prompt and had a lot of fun with it, though I think it turned out both a bit sillier and angstier in some places than it maybe should have been;;; either way I hope prompter still enjoys it ! :D   
> (I got short on time towards the end, I'm sorry it's a bit abrupt ! ; ^;)

Chanyeol's never liked to ask why his boss has a detailed pizza slice tattooed on the back of his hand.

Sure Junmyeon has a few nerdy tattoos, but they're personal and well hidden. His body art is an advertisement of his work and standards, and god knows with all his delicate line work he's lectured Chanyeol a good two hundred times on what people will think of him as a professional if he keeps inking doodles on his own arms.

Junmyeon's predominantly decorated with isometric designs, a few fine dot-work birds. There's a long, delicate line of script down Junmyeon's forearm, surrounded by perfectly even bars of shading. And then there's the pizza. Bright and cartoonish on his dominant hand, between thumb and finger. Always there, prominent as anything.

Junmyeon's a lover of puns, but Chanyeol's always come up blank trying to figure out what exactly it could be. Junmyeon doesn't even _like_ mushrooms on pizza, Chanyeol knows that much.

Not that Chanyeol's criticising -- the rilakkuma on his ass often isn't a hit the first time people become acquainted with it (what's sex without laughter, anyway?). Not that Chanyeol ever really thinks about the pizza anymore, even, other than when he has hunger pangs and the orange shading on the cheese is particularly appealing.

It's just that the appointment he's booking in right now, the design they've passed over to him is a pizza slice.

"You know, it's weird," Chanyeol says, frowning and turning the paper until the point of the slice is at the same angle as Junmyeon's. Two pepperoni rounds and a slither of green pepper, like a smile. No mistaking that.

Before he can tell his customer what about it is weird, beyond the fact it's a slice of pizza, the man with him pipes up.

"I've been trying to talk him out of it for three years, whatever is weird about it isn't going to stop him."

Chanyeol's customer -- well, Junmyeon's customer, Chanyeol just does the appointment cards when Junmyeon is out -- lets out a nasal laugh. He smacks his friend on the back, and Chanyeol doesn't think his wince looks all that exaggerated. 

 

"Boss!"

Junmyeon's barely got the door closed behind himself before Chanyeol's bounding over and relieving him of the binder of sketches tucked under his arm. He holds it away from his body, too precious to be contaminated, sets it on the counter, and then bounds back to take Junmyeon's jacket.

"Thanks." Junmyeon gives Chanyeol a warm smile as he lets his jacket be yanked from his shoulders. It's nice having a puppy to welcome you back with it's tail wagging. Chanyeol seems particularly excitable today, though, leaving open the grim possibility that he's _done something_. "Everything ok while I was gone?" Junmyeon tries casually. There's no smoke or bad smell or ink stains obvious; that's a reassurance, at least.

"Yeah!" Chanyeol hangs Junmyeon's jacket and brushes creases out of the stiff black material. "Like two people came in, only one booked in. I got your desk set up for your afternoon appointment. How was Jonginnie?"

Junmyeon hums, straightening up the design files on the waiting area table. "He's fine. I've booked him in for after closing next Thursday."

As a rule Junmyeon wouldn't be as accommodating as to actually leave his studio for a consultation, but Jongin is good as family. And deathly afraid of people, and Junmyeon needed to take photos for the design anyway. Jongin's delayed having to leave the half a mile radius in which he's comfortable to visit Junmyeon's studio for so long that his dog has entirely changed shape since Junmyeon initially designed the piece. She's too fat to fit on Jongin's inner arm now, but he didn't seem anything but delighted that her portrait would look bigger and better on his calf instead.

"Cool. Can I see your plans?" Chanyeol asks, circling Junmyeon as he joins Chanyeol back behind the counter.

"It's under the green tab," Junmyeon says with a nod. His desk seems to have an awful lot of ink caps on it. So many that he's kind of wondering if Chanyeol's enthusiasm got the better of him while he was out. "Thanks for setting up."

Chanyeol gives him a grim look. "I thought you'd need some encouragement."

Right. The tall guy trying to have his tribal scorpion covered. Junmyeon never wants to see another tribal tattoo in his life. But he also never likes to give Chanyeol ammunition -- he's perfected bluffing a professional distaste for customers he's probably going to think of in the shower at some point.

Junmyeon gives Chanyeol's arm a pat in thanks, and Chanyeol quickly becomes so distracted cooing over the sketches of Jongin's poodle that he entirely forgets about the slice of pizza.

 

It's only when they're shutting up for the evening and Junmyeon's removing the deposit payments stuffed into his schedule that he remembers Chanyeol booked someone in. The studio isn't all that busy in the lead up to the end of the year, what with the cold and people saving for the holidays and New Year, so it's his only appointment next Friday.

Junmyeon taps the page with a nail. Another Kim. "Yeollie, you didn't clip the design in."

Chanyeol's head snaps up from where he's poring over the light box. "Oh! Right, yeah. Sorry boss, I left it out to show you. It's kinda funny," Chanyeol rummages through the books and stencils on his desk, disorganising his allegedly organised stacking system. "Someone else found the same flash sheet you did."

Junmyeon glances up at Chanyeol with a look between confusion and offence. "I don't have any flash. I've designed everything I have myself."

Chanyeol pulls the design out from the back of his schedule and studies it again, this time with an appalled frown. "So did some jerk steal your work?" He steps up from his seat and holds the sheet of paper out to Junmyeon.

Junmyeon immediately stops looking confused and instead goes very still. And then very, very pink. "Who brought this in?" He snatches it from Chanyeol, turning it, holding it far closer to his face than his eyesight can actually do much with. "What did he look like?"

"It was a little guy? I mean," Chanyeol pushes his fingers through his fading red hair, "Probably your height. Not that little at all really, just. Yeah, and he had like.." Junmyeon's staring at him like his job depends on this, and it's a lot of pressure when Chanyeol was more interested in the guy's unimpressed friend. He could describe him -- long pretty fingers, a cute nose, kinda curvy? Chanyeol wouldn't mind being stepped on by him. But right, anyway. "Ok, he had really long eyelashes, I remember that. And this big cat smile? And his hair was kinda curly."

Chanyeol jogs on his toes a little, unsure from Junmyeon's lack of response if that was helpful. All Chanyeol ever wants to be is helpful. Junmyeon's still just staring, face still the same colour as Chanyeol's hair.

"Boss? Is there--"

A sound a little like Junmyeon just got punched in the gut comes out when he opens his mouth. "I drew this. I--" The sheet Chanyeol's been given is a photocopy, old fold lines around the design carefully ironed out so it'd lay flat on the glass. "I drew this," Junmyeon repeats, then his mouth works silently. Seven years ago, in the back of a notebook that wasn't his own. Fainting in front of his apprentice would be completely unprofessional, but steadying himself with that thought is about all that's keeping him upright.

"So, uh." Chanyeol rubs at the back of his neck. "What's the connection?" He asks courageously, because if there was ever going to be a time to find out the tale behind the pizza tattoo it's now.

Junmyeon looks up at Chanyeol, eyes following the trail of clover leaves inked down his inner arm. "The guy that booked in. It was Kim Jongdae, right?" Junmyeon asks weakly. He doesn't look as though he really needs an answer, so Chanyeol just pulls him up a chair.

 

⊛

 

For the next three days Junmyeon jumps out of his skin every time the buzzer above the door sounds. Chanyeol starts making a habit of a running commentary of who he can see out the window so Junmyeon won't have to pay for anyone's tattoo removal; the first two times he abruptly cut off his machine and stood to see past the counter. Chanyeol's never seen his beloved, usually so charming boss such a mess.

"That's a nice abstract, boss." Chanyeol bends down and folds his arms over the back of Junmyeon's chair. Junmyeon's been sitting at his desk drawing increasingly misshapen circles for the last three minutes.

"I'm working," he snaps as Chanyeol's weight on the chair back rocks him a little. Chanyeol's big hands swamp him, so warm, and his thumbs walk Junmyeon's shoulders searching out just the right places to dig in. Junmyeon sighs and tries to relax so Chanyeol's not working with stone. "Sorry, Yeollie."

Chanyeol shakes his head. Junmyeon can't see that, though, so he gently butts against him too. "I have a suggestion."

Junmyeon grimaces as he tilts his neck into the impromptu massage and it gives a deep crunch. He's built up so much tension the last few days even Chanyeol's enthusiastic rubbing is struggling to work into it. Damn, the force he can get behind his thumbs though. He's a pretty useful guy to have around.

"Dying before Friday?"

"No." Chanyeol digs into a knot in Junmyeon's shoulder that makes him jolt in his chair. He winces as Chanyeol rubs with the heel of his palm to soothe it. What a good pup. Junmyeon will have to give him some extra commission this week. "We should have a code word. If I see Kim Jongdae coming then I can use it, and you can--"

"Die."

"Like, hide out back and I can tell him you had to cancel."

"No, no." Junmyeon shrugs Chanyeol's hands off his shoulders, turns in his chair to look up at him. "I have to be professional about this."

"I could do it?" Chanyeol offers. Junmyeon's grip on the pencil he's holding tightens so hard it's a wonder it doesn't splinter in half, and Chanyeol has to question if Junmyeon is actually safe to work on this mysterious Kim-Jongdae-with-the-pizza-slice. "Well, anyway. The code word is capybara, ok? If I see him first then I can at least warn you."

After a long few seconds of staring balefully at the coloured ink peeking out from Chanyeol's baggy vest, the word registers with Junmyeon. He squints up at Chanyeol. "Capybara?"

Chanyeol's eyes grow twice the size and fill with glitter, his hands rising. His boss wants to lie down and let the elements take him, though, so with some effort he fights the excitement over overgrown guinea pigs back. "Google it, you'll feel better."

"Thanks," Junmyeon musters up a smile. Maybe that is a good idea. Chanyeol's the one who has time to keep a watchful eye on the door while Junmyeon is absorbed in his work; some warning would at least mean Junmyeon's less likely to be startled by Jongdae's voice and drop his machine. He'd recognise his voice, he knows. He'd probably be able to tell it was Jongdae if he heard him sneeze.

But anyway. Junmyeon steals a look at the time as he turns back to his desk, supporting his head by clamping a hand over his face. Everything is fine. Friday is a long way off. "Back to work, Yeollie. Don't worry about me."

Chanyeol's head droops. "Sure, boss." He pushes back from Junmyeon's chair, not sure how to do that when Junmyeon's eyeing his grapefruit water like he wishes there was poison in it

 

⊛

 

Junmyeon drops his schedule book. The thick spine hits the stash of pens on his desk, and out back Chanyeol yelps in surprise at the crash. Scooping up the deposit money he was supposed to have been slotting in beside Do Kyungsoo at 1pm, Junmyeon heaves a sigh. He's starting to wonder if he should go off sick until Friday. Can these hands really be trusted with customers right now?

"Such steady hands," Kyungsoo comments from behind the counter, reading Junmyeon's mind. It's been yelling loud enough for the last few days; he's not surprised. "A quality I always look for in a tattoo artist."

"I'm miserable," Junmyeon tells him, because Kyungsoo isn't exactly a friend but he's good as, in that weird way long sessions of hurting people for art builds solidarity. Junmyeon's had to spend upward of three weeks handling Kyungsoo's thighs, not to mention the eight hour ordeal of his back. All in one session Kyungsoo had said, and after six hours Junmyeon regretted doubting his stamina. "I've been like this all week, I'm scaring customers away."

Kyungsoo is only chest height to the counter, so he has to stretch up to rest on his elbows. "Well, I can't get the time off again for who knows how long, so I'll just have to have a shaky one."

Junmyeon offers Kyungsoo a weak smile. Friday is coming around so soon, and he's basically getting more ridiculous by the day. It's only Tuesday, so who knows what quality work he'll be inflicting on people as the week goes on.

Heavy footsteps alert Junmyeon to Chanyeol approaching just before Kyungsoo's eyebrows do. "It's not Kim Jongdae," Chanyeol groans in relief above Junmyeon's head, then deflates out over the counter. "Hey, Soo," he says, then rolls his head towards Junmyeon. "This is getting me on edge too, boss."

 

"So you and this Kim Jongdae had a thing years ago."

"Yeah." Out of the corner of his eye Junmyeon sees Chanyeol loitering nearby when he turns to set Kyungsoo's used stencil down. "Forever ago, back in college." Junmyeon repositions Kyungsoo's arm on the rest, nudges the pedal for his machine into a better position under his chair with his foot. He picks the machine up and runs it through a capful of black ink. "Chanyeol," he calls as he rests his gloved fingers on Kyungsoo's forearm. "You didn't put out any water."

"Sure I--" Chanyeol gestures to the plastic cup on Junmyeon's desk that he'd set out earlier. And forgotten to fill. All this Kim Jongdae stuff is stressful, ok.

"Ready?" Junmyeon asks as a formality, pressing the needle to Kyungsoo's inner wrist. Kyungsoo blinks, unflinching, watching over Junmyeon's shoulder as Chanyeol dives into the cabinet for disinfectant. He keeps a steady gaze on Chanyeol as he sidles past them to set the sterile water down. They make eye contact, and Chanyeol feels compelled to blurt out what information on this story he knows.

"And now Kim Jongdae just turns up! With the same design boss already has-- the _actual design_ boss drew, like years later. And last boss knew he was--" Chanyeol glances back to Junmyeon. Junmyeon's lining as slow and steady as always, despite his considerably raised blood pressure. "China, right? I mean how wild is that?"

"Really?" Kyungsoo's brows rise. Chanyeol feels a little satisfied to have gotten a reaction, but a lot bad for how Junmyeon's doing a good impression of a hedgehog trying to ball up.

"It was just a thing," Junmyeon replies before Chanyeol can continue the story for him, barely audible over the rattle of the machine. Junmyeon would be feeling a little self conscious inking this hyper realistic and honestly rather terrifying octopus on Kyungsoo if his tattoo in question was on display, but thankfully his black gloves cover it entirely. "You know how it is when you're a teenager. It was some stupid in-joke we had, I drew it up and we both said we'd get it some day."

Kyungsoo nods. Beside them Chanyeol lets out a loud, "Ohhhh."

Junmyeon makes use of the water Chanyeol brought him, leaning back and pressing hard on the pedal to run the needle clean. He can tell his face is flushed, so he fiddles with the line of ink caps for a moment, feeling a little better for facing the otherwise empty studio.

"Then why did you get one already?" Chanyeol asks, and Junmyeon nearly knocks over the cap of red ink. Little shit isn't brave enough to ask Junmyeon when it's just the two of them. Chanyeol gasps as another thought comes to him. Junmyeon hopes it's about how close to getting fired he is.

"Did he stand you up?"

"He wouldn't do that," Junmyeon snaps, then groans. That didn't sound like _it's personal and I don't want to talk about it_ at all.

Maybe he should talk about it. But also he could not, like, ever. Balling all those feelings up and burying them under work and Star Wars marathons and his mom's home cooking has always worked just fine. He's still never told her he kind of had his heart irreparably broken back in art school; just claiming homesickness is enough to get him some comfort food and hugs.

Kyungsoo shifts in the chair a little as Junmyeon wipes his wrist off and moves back in to start the inner lines. "It looks great already," he mercifully offers as a change of subject. But they still have four hours of conversation to come up with, and Junmyeon's barely two red tentacles in before Chanyeol asks Kyungsoo how he'd feel if someone else had the same design.

Without a beats hesitation Kyungsoo suggests skinning. Junmyeon can feel his arm shifting with a repressed laugh at the sound Chanyeol makes.

"It'd be different to Junmyeon's situation, anyway. If someone had the same as me I'd know they stole it."

Junmyeon makes a grave sound in agreement. "And then I'd have to set Chanyeol on them."

"But with Kim Jongdae--" Chanyeol yelps as Kyungsoo feigns a jab to his side.

"Leave him alone," Kyungsoo tilts his head to Junmyeon. "I don't want him screwing up because you're upsetting him."

"I won't screw it up." Junmyeon pouts, straightening in his seat. Kyungsoo doesn't flinch as his skin is wiped clean of ink and blood again. Unlike Chanyeol, who flinches just under the look Junmyeon gives him.

Chanyeol's the one with a body like a rilakkuma storefront display so Junmyeon really doesn't feel at liberty to discuss his own questionable tattoo choices. But at the same time it's unavoidable that this is happening, and he can't just refuse to process it until the time comes and it's too late. His hands are starting to sweat inside his gloves.

"I got the tattoo just because it symbolised a turning point in my life, ok? Even if it wasn't for it's original purpose, it was significant. I got it to celebrate owning this place."

Kyungsoo nods. "Ohhhh," Chanyeol says loudly.

"And anyway, it's not surprising he moved back to the same area, right?" Junmyeon says a lot for his own benefit. It's not like there are a ton of tattoo studios around -- he probably hasn't even moved back into his old place. Just around here, somewhere. "If he's left China for whatever reason. If he even has left. Maybe he just came back to visit someone."

Chanyeol makes a sort of choking sound.

Kyungsoo looks up at him. Junmyeon pre-emptively takes his foot off the pedal, holding the still machine in both hands. If anything can make this even worse, he swears--

"I, uh." Chanyeol gulps. "I forgot to mention that, uh. He was with someone? A guy." He squinches one eye up and Junmyeon's stomach plummets. "A really cute guy. Oh my god. He's so cute. I'm so sorry I forgot to say anything, I--"

This is actually the (current) worst day of Junmyeon's life. "Oh, _fuck_. What use are you?" The cord on the machine smacks his own leg as he waves a hand at Chanyeol. Forgetting the water, forgetting that the love of Junmyeon's life potentially is bringing his new boyfriend with him. Useless. "How cute? Like hot cute? Was he hot?"

Not that it should matter, really, whether Jongdae is dating or not. It's not like it's really his fault Junmyeon's been single for basically ever. Junmyeon's just been very focused on work and very bad at not blabbing about how he had his heart torn out whenever he's gotten remotely close to someone. Especially if it's a date with wine. Wine always makes him so goddamn weepy.

Chanyeol declines to comment, pretty sure whatever he has to say about Kim Jongdae's very cute, very hot companion is only going to make this worse. Just nodding slightly in confirmation makes it worse anyway. Who knew Junmyeon could howl like that.

"Oh dear," Kyungsoo offers. Junmyeon's pretty sure Kyungsoo is smirking at his misery. What kind of loyalty, after he gave him a discount last time and everything.

Beside them Chanyeol's started to busy his hands with a balled up design he'd stuffed in his pocket to throw out later. "At least you know he's coming so you get to prepare?" He says, tearing and turning and tearing the paper. "He has no idea you're here."

True. Good, Junmyeon thinks for the split second he's as idiotic as his apprentice. Then the issue dawns on him. "My name is above the door! On the appointment card! Of course-- Oh." Oh no. Oh no, no, no.

Chanyeol looks to Kyungsoo, eyes wide. Then they both turn their heads to Junmyeon, who is miraculously still upright in his chair.

"Oh, man, he knows." Chanyeol screws the ball of paper up tighter in his hands and starts twisting it instead. How had neither of them thought of that before? Kim Jongdae's visit wasn't pure fate at all. Kim Jongdae is a sneaky, sly man. Chanyeol's suddenly doubting his own resolve to protect his boss from.. whatever exact kind of threat this Kim Jongdae poses.

The only one not frozen to the spot, Kyungsoo shifts in his chair, lifting his arm away from the rest where it was starting to sweat against the plastic. "Do you need to take a break?" He offers. Junmyeon looks more like he needs to lie facedown for a while.

"Sorry, boss," Chanyeol says weakly.

Junmyeon shakes his head, takes a deep breath. He can cry about this in the shower later. Right now he has work to do. "I'm ok. If you're alright to, lets keep going." He smiles at Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo raises a brow, but gives a nod. Junmyeon starts on the next thick tentacle, longingly imagining it squeezing around his neck. 

 

⊛

 

All things considered, Jongin doesn't look too worse for wear. It helps that he was able to come over after dark, and that the bus that brought him here was nearly empty. And a few other things, but he's talking with a scarf wrapped snug under his nose so Junmyeon doesn't catch it. Jongin's here in one piece, that's what matters.

Junmyeon had to unlock the main door to let Jongin in, and he's already lowered the blinds. Jongin still peers cautiously around first, not loosening the grip on his collar to start unzipping his jacket until Junmyeon's reaffirmed that they're the only ones here.

"Chanyeol left too?" Jongin asks, sounding less tense and more disappointed. He shucks his jacket and leaves it on the counter as he steps around.

"Sorry, Jonginnie. He had a thing." Junmyeon's well aware that Chanyeol is on the small list of people Jongin can talk to with ease, so he didn't make any effort to discourage him from staying. But it sounded like a pretty serious sister thing, so unfortunately that was that. Chanyeol left an hour ago, balefully regarding the ink on his fingers that hadn't been there the last time his family wanted him to celebrate his sister's achievements.

"Shame. But anyway, hyung." Jongin steps out of his shoes, then pops the button on his jeans and starts to wriggle out of them. "How have you been?"

Junmyeon's busy with taping plastic wrap to the bed, so he only spares Jongin's muscular thighs a brief envious glance when he looks up at the sound of Jongin's voice. Junmyeon used to be sort of more that build, but since he's been a full time artist it's a much more sedentary existence. "Uh." Jongdae's appointment is tomorrow. What if he wants the design on his thigh. What if by this time tomorrow Jongdae has sat on this very bed in his boxers.

"Good," he lies through his teeth. This is a big deal for Jongin, finally making it over here. Junmyeon wants Jongin to know how significant that achievement is and how proud he is of him, not replace Jongin's anxiety with his own. "Yeah, good. Same old same old, business as usual. Come lie on the bed and get comfy."

Jongin shuffles forward, socks sliding on the tiled floor. "On my left side?"

"Yep." Junmyeon looks for a playlist more suited to Jongin's tastes on his docked iPod, hits play, then moves over to his desk to snap on some gloves. He smiles when a deep laugh comes from Jongin as the first song starts. "Perfect," he says as he turns back to Jongin on the bed (because he likes him, but also because it's surprising just how wrongly some people manage to position themselves). "This'll have to come off first." He pats Jongin's calf, then reaches over for the razor on his desk.

Jongin's eyes widen minutely. He didn't think to shave his leg in advance. "Sorry."

"No, no," Junmyeon waves him off. "It's better that I do it at the time. I do this for everyone, don't worry."

Something about that makes Jongin giggle, as does the ticklish sensation of the razor. It's a nice sound to hear. Junmyeon brushes Jongin's leg off and reaches for the spray bottle on his desk. "It's going to be cold," he warns. "Don't worry if it burns, that's normal."

Jongin winces at the sting of the green soap on freshly shaved skin. "Is the tattoo going to hurt much more than that?" He asks, but when Junmyeon turns back from his desk Jongin's smiling just at the sight of the stencil. He looks as flushed and happy about Junmyeon placing a reference photo beside his leg as Chanyeol looks when the convenience store is running rilakkuma themed meal deals.

Getting the positioning right only takes one try, and after briefly sitting up to gush over the reflection of the design Jongin soon looks comfortably dozy lying on the bed watching Junmyeon preparing.

"I thought you were going to be uptight a bit, maybe, hyung."

Junmyeon almost sends the band around his machine flying across the room. He is kind of uptight, thanks, now Jongin mentions it.

Jongin clears his throat. "Chanyeol told me? About the guy thing."

Of course Chanyeol fucking told him. Chanyeol's probably told mama Park, too. Maybe the studio Junmyeon trained at as an apprentice himself, and the artist who did his own pizza slice for him.

"Yeah, there's.." Junmyeon shrugs helplessly. Jongin won't pry like Chanyeol does or make him feel bashful like Kyungsoo did, but this still fucking sucks, and Junmyeon's worried if he starts talking he won't be able to stop. His shower tiles have heard more about Jongdae than he's had to hear about capybaras over the past week. "There's that. It's tomorrow."

"Oh," Jongin says softly.

Getting started on Jongin is relatively painless (figuratively), once he's taken a few deep breaths. Junmyeon starts him off easy with a few short lines to get him used to the sensation, and aside from the occasional wince Jongin makes no fuss at all once Junmyeon's gotten going on the outline.

For ten minutes Jongin entertains himself with social media and Junmyeon hums along to the playlist (one of his personal bests, in his opinion). Jongin drops his phone onto his chest after refreshing Twitter a few times to nothing new. "Hyung, is it ok to talk?"

"Of course," Junmyeon answers absently, focusing hard on the exact curve of the nose he's inking. But then he's back on to fur, and wait. Damn it. "You're going to ask about Jongdae," he accuses, and he doesn't have to look up to know Jongin's giving him puppy eyes.

"It's just, I thought I knew everything there was to know about you, hyung. That can't have been long before we met."

Curse Jongin's soft nature. Junmyeon can't shoot him down like with Chanyeol. "It wasn't," he sighs. "I never mentioned him to anyone once we'd graduated. Not because I was embarrassed or anything like that. Just as a precaution, I guess."

Jongin starts turning his phone in his hands. "A precaution?"

"In case it didn't last." Junmyeon lifts away from Jongin's leg and sinks back in his chair. Its not like he's doing this on the clock; he can stop if Jongin's going to want the full story. "It wasn't easy making things work once we didn't live within a few minutes of each other. It was 2009, Jonginnie, staying in touch wasn't quite so easy as it is now."

Having spent most of his life solely communicating non-verbally, Jongin makes a grim sound in agreement. "Still. It wasn't the dark ages, hyung."

"We mailed a lot." Essay length mails that are still in Junmyeon's inbox. He could find them any time if he wanted to. Not that he does. "But with me setting up this place and him so busy it just got harder to do that."

Junmyeon tried. Not that he'd tell anyone, because it sounds so goddamn lame, but he rented out a studio in this area to try and close that distance. He didn't mind the commute out here when it meant some lunch breaks they could both travel out and meet halfway. He doesn't mind it now, really, unless it's raining. Even then it's still nice to look out over a river and totally _not_ think about Jongdae, it's been seven years, jesus.

Jongin reaches over to place a hand on Junmyeon's arm. He doesn't like seeing his favourite hyung sad, and Junmyeon looking tearful is easily enough to start Jongin off too. Junmyeon pouts at Jongin, embarrassed, but he's this far into the story so he may as well continue.

"We didn't ever really officially break up, even. He had to go to China for his education. And though it was getting easier to stay in touch by then, it just.." Junmyeon gulps. A Final Fantasy OST track starts on his iPod. He hates his life. "We never agreed to break up? We never had that talk. We were both concerned about being unfair to each other, and it just.. we just talked less and less, and that was kind of it."

That's the thing. That's what's so terrifying about all of this, that in the last seven years Junmyeon could have just gotten back in touch at any time. It's been easy to make out like Jongdae broke his heart by never persisting with contact, but neither did Junmyeon. It's been easier to console himself by thinking that Jongdae eventually moved on and forgot about him than to wonder if Jongdae was just respecting Junmyeon's silence, wondering what happened to him too.

But he kept that stupid sketch of the pizza slice. He's coming in here to get it tattooed on him. Why didn't Chanyeol let Junmyeon go with Plan A: Death Before Friday.

"So why was he so special?" Jongin asks to get away from that subject. "What does a guy have to do to win Junmyeon-hyung's heart?"

Junmyeon scrubs his neck with the gloved heel of his palm. "Talk me out of the closet," he says, and Jongin laughs so hard the reference picture falls down from where it was propped against his leg. "I'm serious!" He smacks Jongin's knee lightly as he rights the print-out of Jongin's overweight dog.

"I know, I'm sorry. That wasn't what I was expecting." Jongin's reassuring touch to Junmyeon's arm has turned into a crushing grip, but Junmyeon's too fond and too emotional to do anything about it. He does have a lot of ink to lay down, though, so if only for that reason he shoos Jongin back into position on the bed.

"I'm not gonna get any work done if I tell you the whole sob story," Junmyeon waves off the eager look Jongin is giving him. "I just couldn't face up to some things when I was younger, and he made it all less scary. It sounds lame and dramatic, which I _never_ am--" Jongin side-eyes Junmyeon, biting back a smile. "But the time we spent together changed how everything was going for me. I wouldn't be where I am now if he hadn't helped me out of that rut back then."

"Aww," Jongin pouts. "You always seem so sure of yourself, hyung."

Blood has beaded up on Jongin's leg where the ink has been resting for the past few minutes. Junmyeon gently wipes him off and then settles back in to start work again. Bracketing himself against Jongin's leg means his flushed face is out of view. He doesn't mind Jongin of all people seeing him flustered, but even with him the subject makes Junmyeon feel a little self conscious. He's only got a few years on the people he knows as out and proud, but things seemed to progress pretty fast in those few years. Not that Junmyeon really does much socialising anyway, but it still stings a little sometimes, that it's so much easier to talk about now. He didn't have anyone until Jongdae.

"Now, yes. Thanks to some guy showing me it was ok to like kissing him."

"He wasn't just some guy though, was he," Jongin says from behind his phone.

It feels like the air's been knocked out of Junmyeon for a moment, so he takes his foot off the pedal and feigns an interest in the reference photo. He could reason that maybe this happening is going to be a good thing -- closure, so he can stop getting glossy-eyed whenever China comes up in conversation and lying to his unfortunate dates about just how many years ago this happened.

"No. He wasn't," he agrees after a long pause. "Chanyeol thinks he's got a new boyfriend," he adds before Jongin can start getting his hopes up. A new cute hot boyfriend, apparently. Junmyeon had liked the silver wash on his hair when it was first done. Now he's just wondering if he looks kind of old. In a premature whites kind of way or a not-young-enough-for-this-anymore way.

 

⊛

 

"Maybe he'll cancel. Like one of those assholes that texts to say they can't make it five minutes after they should be here," Chanyeol offers. They've both had their eye on the clock for the last half hour. Junmyeon's gnawed his way through three of the four granola bars Chanyeol's been trying to get rid of just out of stress. Chanyeol's nudged the last one onto the edge of his desk in hopes he's going to feel the need to start on it soon. Chanyeol loves his roommate as much as he loves anyone else, but he sure doesn't love his home-made granola bars.

"He's not an asshole, though." That's the truth, and Junmyeon couldn't be more unhappy about it right now. Jongdae would never just drop something like that. Unless he's changed in all these years -- there's still _hope_ that he could be an asshole.

Junmyeon groans into his hands. He couldn't sleep last night after dropping Jongin off, and over the course of the morning he's screwed up making the stencil of the design twice looking at it with tired eyes. It wasn't easy redrawing it when just seeing the stupid thing brings back so many memories. He's just wondering what he could cover the pizza on his own hand with when the buzzer over the door sounds. He looks up sharply, but Chanyeol's not leapt out of his skin, so that's a good sign.

"Hey," a voice comes from behind the counter. "My friend booked in a week back? He's just parking up."

" _Capybara_ ," Chanyeol blares like an air horn.

"Capybara?" repeats Kim Jongdae's small friend with the thighs Chanyeol would like around his face. "No, he's the idiot getting the slice of pizza."

This is it. Junmyeon's going to die.

Jongdae's companion is called Baekhyun, they find out. It's the first thing Junmyeon hears him say, and if he ignores how cutting that is, he wasn't wrong that he'd memorised Jongdae's tone perfectly.

Jongdae looks almost exactly as Junmyeon remembers, too. Maybe a little more handsome, definitely a lot more muscular. His neck is so thick Junmyeon almost reaches for Chanyeol's hand to support himself through that discovery.

For a few moments Jongdae and Baekhyun linger in the waiting area, Baekhyun gesturing to the seats and magazines stacked on the table. Junmyeon hears an indistinct whine from Jongdae, and he feels like his heart is going to pound straight through his chest. What should he say? How is he going to look casual enough? Why didn't Chanyeol let him go with Plan A, why, why.

Chanyeol ducks away from the counter and stoops down to where Junmyeon's almost flat out across the lightbox. "Boss." He places a gentle hand between Junmyeon's shoulders. "Ok, like, I'm a _pretty good_ judge of these things, and I don't think they look like a couple."

"Really?" Junmyeon's desperate enough right now that he doesn't care if neither of them are being entirely professional. "He's so cute though. I should have got more sleep, I probably look like I'm 80."

Chanyeol's mouth turns down. "No way. I think you're really cute."

At that moment Jongdae's head pops up over the counter, so Junmyeon's distracted from Chanyeol suddenly choking on his own tongue. Chanyeol ducks away entirely, but Junmyeon can't even recall what he just said. Jongdae's waving to him.

"Sorry, I'm--" Junmyeon's knees feel weak. He is 80. He grabs the design off the light box and drops it on his desk. "Come through, I'll-- there's a catch on the door, I'll--"

Junmyeon's hands aren't trembling as much as he'd been concerned they would be as he reaches for the little bolt on the door between counter and workspace. Which is nice, great. But there's no point feeling this achieved at not being a mess at having Jongdae on the other side of the counter when in a moment he's going to need to touch him.

It nearly has Junmyeon jumping out of his inked skin when Jongdae suddenly leans close.

"I like your piercing."

This can't be real, Junmyeon decides. This isn't actually happening. He's going to wake up under his Star Wars blanket any moment now and shower away this terrible dream.

"Thanks," he chokes out, touching his fingers to the ring through his septum. "I said I'd get it done one day."

Behind them, Baekhyun raises his head, looking puzzled by the familiarity of that reply. Junmyeon gulps, but Baekhyun just flips to the next page in the magazine he's skimming.

"Uh. I mean, I've had a few done, but it took a while to work up to one this visible," Junmyeon fumbles to try and cover that piece of history resurfacing. Whether implying that he's got piercings under his clothes was a good way to go about it or not is debatable.

"Right." Jongdae smiles. "Well, I guess you can in a job like this, huh."

"Yeah." They're doing small talk. Unbelievable. Junmyeon's tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth, safely keeping him from saying anything else stupid, when he looks up to find Jongdae staring.

Jongdae's giving him the strangest look. Stranger than the _I haven't been in touch for seven years and still have the design for that matching tattoo we were planning, surprise_ look. Junmyeon's heart lurches into his throat, because why ever he's doing it, it's Jongdae, right here, looking at Junmyeon. And he's holding up the hand with his own pizza tattoo on it, fuck, shit, ok that's probably why.

Waking up any moment right about fucking now would be great.

 

Jongdae's having the tattoo on his back. On his shoulder, safely below where the neck of any shirt would fall.

This means Junmyeon doesn't have to sit face to face to work on him. But it also means Jongdae's pulling his tshirt up over his head, and Junmyeon is so, so, so gay, god, help.

"Boss." Chanyeol uncertainly hovers a hand near Junmyeon's arm. It distracts Junmyeon from Jongdae's toned chest, though he still looks a little dazed as he turns to his apprentice. "I can stay here. If you want. I can find stuff to do," Chanyeol offers.

Agreeing seems absolutely ridiculous, not to mention highly unprofessional, but Junmyeon finds himself nodding anyway. Chanyeol's a great talker; Junmyeon can't think off the top of his head of any of his standard artist-client patter that won't lead straight into he and Jongdae sharing history. Or, like, potentially make him cry. Jongdae could be married to Baekhyun with three beautiful puppies for all he knows, and finding that out as he's inking him would probably all round not be great. Maybe Jongdae really has turned into an asshole, showing up here and flaunting his new boyfriend. That wouldn't make sense with the design, though. Honestly, what the f--

"Oh." Turning away from Chanyeol and Jongdae's unfairly toned back, Junmyeon startles to find Baekhyun peering over from the counter.

"Is it ok if I come round too?" He asks. "I promised some people a report on how badly he takes it."

"Sure." Junmyeon stuffs his tattooed hand into his pocket, fumbling with the catch with his left. Baekhyun bows his head as he steps through, nodding thanks to Junmyeon. He has a cute mischievous little grin on his cute face, and, distractedly, Junmyeon thinks even the way he walks across the room is pretty cute. His heart may be aching, but he's happy for Jongdae, finding someone like Baekhyun.

Baekhyun turns out to be as good at talking about nothing as Chanyeol is. Chanyeol babbles away with him enough to fill the silence, and Jongdae only really joins in to whine when Baekhyun comes out with something embarrassing about him. It's not like Jongdae can swipe at him right now, though Junmyeon takes a few pre-emptive pauses when he's sure Jongdae's going to laugh.

Touching Jongdae again is surreal. Hearing him talking and laughing and absolutely nothing to do with Junmyeon; it's so impossible that this is happening it's almost like Junmyeon can convince himself it's not. Junmyeon works on autopilot, tattooing a promise onto Jongdae like it's nothing. It's kind of anticlimactic after all of that worrying, and Junmyeon flushes hot a few times at just how banal this is compared to the progressively wilder scenarios he's been having stress dreams about.

But Jongdae doesn't mention that he's been happily married to Baekhyun since the day he arrived in China. He doesn't turn around and tell Junmyeon he's been thinking about him every day for the last seven years. It's just an easy, straightforward appointment. Chanyeol takes over to do the dressing and list off aftercare instructions. Jongdae admires the design in pictures on Baekhyun's phone, laughs all the way back to the storefront at how disgusted Baekhyun is that he actually got it done. They only make eye contact once more, when Jongdae pays.

"Thanks. It looks great," Jongdae says. He doesn't say _it's always been you, it's only ever been you_. When he looks back up from his wallet to hand over the notes he's grinning, and he looks exactly, heartachingly the same as Junmyeon's always remembered. "I've wanted it for years, but I kept telling Baekhyun I had to find the right artist."

Junmyeon's mouth dries out. Oh.

"More's the shame you found them." Baekhyun elbows Jongdae as he joins him. "How am I supposed to set you up with anyone now? Anything I say about how reliable and responsible you are will sound fake if they see that."

Jongdae laughs, and with a loud huff Baekhyun links their arms and pulls at him. He gives Chanyeol a wave goodbye and starts what sounds like a well replayed argument with Jongdae, no longer paying attention to Junmyeon. This little experience in Jongdae's life is over and done now.

Junmyeon's zoned out a little anyway. So Jongdae's definitely not dating Baekhyun. Dating no one at all, by the sound of it. They're gone by the time it fully dawns on him that even caring about that is pointless.

"Boss?" Chanyeol ventures, wringing his sleeves. "They seem nice? I dunno what I was expecting. I didn't even have to fight him or anything." Junmyeon drums his fingers on the counter. "Boss? Do you want more granola?"

That was it. That just really happened.

Junmyeon gulps. When he looks back behind the counter everything is hot and blurring. "Chanyeol, can you.."

"Granola?" Chanyeol offers hopefully. He's since moved things around on the desk and can't see the last bar when he turns to look for it, but as he turns back he gets a bundle of Junmyeon falling against him to occupy his hands with anyway. Ok, ok, ok.

"Chanyeol," Junmyeon sniffs, burying his face against Chanyeol's chest, "If you tell anyone about today I will fire you."

"Noted," Chanyeol croaks. Junmyeon's narrow shoulders start trembling, so he carefully rests his hands on them. That seems to be the right thing to do -- Junmyeon presses in closer, gripping tight at Chanyeol's back. "I won't. Never ever. Promise."

Junmyeon makes a choked little sound Chanyeol's going to take as acknowledgement. Bemused and hot to the tips of his ears, Chanyeol holds him for the next five minutes.

 

⊛

 

Huang Zitao has booked in before. Junmyeon remembers partly because his name is unusual, mostly because something about him made Chanyeol feel the need to talk at three times his usual volume. Junmyeon taps his name with the end of his pen.

"Why is my afternoon double-booked with Oh Sehun--" he starts, then flips over the design clipped in. Ah. They match.

"Sorry." Chanyeol winces as Junmyeon's head thunks soundly onto the counter.

"I hate this. I hate love."

"I know you do," Chanyeol sympathises, rubbing Junmyeon's back with one of his big warm hands. Junmyeon thinks he could probably date a tall guy. Not that he ever wants to date anyone ever again, but Chanyeol's a good advertisement for the concept.

 

Zitao barely made a sound when he had his first tattoo, despite it being on the tender skin over his ribs. Getting this tiny, barely fifteen minute job done has been like trying to get a five year old to behave for a dentist.

Junmyeon pauses for the fourth time when Zitao's chest feels as though it's about to hitch under his hands again. His sigh is far from politely quiet. Zitao's left leg jogs against the bed.

"I can't help it," he sniffles defensively when Junmyeon gives him a look. It's not even that they're going to overrun their time -- Sehun's was over and done so fast he didn't even have time to tweet about it being in progress -- it's just that Junmyeon's patience with love has been remarkably thin recently. "It's just, such, a big thing. Me and Huna, we--" Zitao looks up to Sehun with wet eyes. "This means a lot."

Sehun (not Zitao's boyfriend after all; _platonic life partner_ , Zitao sternly told a perplexed Chanyeol) was a lot more collected about getting his. Zitao had wanted to go first, but then he got upset and Junmyeon refused to work on him until he'd gotten himself together again.

"It'll only be a few minutes longer if there's no more interruptions," Junmyeon says pointedly, then feels bad. This evidently matters a lot to the kid, and Junmyeon wouldn't be such a grouch about this in the first place if he hadn't made the exact same decision back when he was that age. Sehun's more interested in taking pictures of Chanyeol's permanent San-X endorsements right now than defending Zitao, and Zitao looks a little lost not knowing how to retaliate by himself.

"It's not 'cause it hurts," he says after a big gulp. "I can take that."

Junmyeon still wipes the design off with great care. He feels bad for being grumpy with someone who's obviously not in the mood for taking it. "I know. I remember when you had your first one, you sat perfectly."

Zitao brightens up again at that, the smile lighting his flushed face back up. "I cry really easily," he says, "I can't help it. I'm ok if it hurts, but if it's feelings I just cry."

"That's not a bad thing." Junmyeon pats Zitao's shoulder lightly. He's sweet and quickly forgiving of Junmyeon's bad mood, and Junmyeon's grateful for it. Whatever's going on with him doesn't entitle him to be a jerk to customers; he's lucky he got a nice one. "You know, I have a matching design with someone, too. It's lame compared to yours."

Wide-eyed with interest, Zitao leans forward in the chair, following Junmyeon up as he turns away to his desk to fill up on red ink. "Really? What is it?"

"Secret," Junmyeon winks. Zitao whines and falls back into the chair like he's been shoved.

 

"I'm gonna go and live in the hills. By myself," Junmyeon announces as he and Chanyeol shut up shop for the day. That seems the reasonable solution to never wanting to see a happy couple again. "Send take-out up there twice a week."

Chanyeol stops sweeping the tiled floor and rests on the broom handle. "What should I send? Chicken, noodles, pizza--" Ah, fuck. "Sorry! I'm sorry!" Junmyeon's a good aim; Chanyeol's taken out by three balls of paper before he manages to duck away.

"You're fired, Park." Junmyeon balls up another sheet, but this one he just turns in his hands. He just needs to live somewhere where no one knows where China is, with no couples, and no pizza. "You're so fucking fired. Pack your stuff and leave. You're dead to me."

Chanyeol sets the broom aside and opens his arms to Junmyeon. He drops the paper ball onto his desk and willingly trudges into them. He hates love. 

 

⊛

 

Junmyeon's schedule for the week ahead is remarkably empty thanks to a cold that's going around. He's thankful people are cancelling, even if it means a drop in earnings, because when Chanyeol catches it he sounds like death. Junmyeon's both glad to lessen the risk of catching it himself and to not be booked up while Chanyeol's languishing at home.

It's boring as hell without him though, Junmyeon realises after one day of blissful peace. The second day feels a lot more like lonely silence when he arrives to a cold, still studio. 

Junmyeon's been having a busy morning so far, checking out his freshly dyed hair in the mirror every five minutes, criticising the recent batch of sample images posted on the Flickr of the only other studio in the area, and fighting a half-eaten design out of the printer. He's finally gotten the chewed up paper out of there, but Chanyeol usually does this stuff, and he'll be damned if he can figure out how to get into the drawer to put fresh sheets in.

The buzzer above the door sounds, but Junmyeon's elbow deep in the printer and doesn't want to lose his hold on what feels like a catch. Ok, Chanyeol serves several useful functions, Junmyeon has to admit. "Just a moment, sorry. I'm short staffed today," he calls over his shoulder, resisting a triumphant fist pump when the paper tray pops open. See, he can use technology.

"How many tattoo artists does it take to refill a printer?" Asks a gutwrenchingly familiar voice. "I'm not sure that's how the saying goes."

Junmyeon whips around, and yep, that's Jongdae. The entire stack of paper drops out of his hands with a solid thump to the desk.

Jongdae rests his elbows on the counter, and he must be standing on tiptoe to be leaning over this far. "I'd like to be touched up." He grins. Junmyeon's hair may not be grey anymore, but his knees are still as old and weak as they were last time.

"Jesus." Junmyeon clutches at the edge of the counter. He'd think his heart had just leapt out his mouth if he couldn't still feel it hammering away in his chest. "Jongdae, what the fuck." He didn't do his skincare routine last night or his basic coverage this morning, and Jongdae looks effortlessly, just-out-of-bed amazing, and this _isn't fair_.

"Don't you look a peach." Jongdae gestures to Junmyeon's hair.

Junmyeon touches a hand to the back of his cotton candy hair. It's so newly dyed he can still smell it. The dye was called carnation; it's pink, not peach. Honestly, people who aren't into art. But anyway, more pressing: "Why the hell did you get that tattoo? Why are you _here_ , Jongdae."

"My phone said there was a Squirtle in the area, you know I love those." Junmyeon gives Jongdae's smile a withering look. He sighs and drums his fingers on the counter. "It's not untrue that I wanted it. And I didn't know if you'd want to see me, so I figured this way you could decide for yourself. I've not had much idea how you felt about things for the last.."

"Seven years. It's been seven years, and you just come in here? And have me work on you and don't-- You didn't even--" Junmyeon sputters, anger barely overtaking the nerves. He's trying to take this in, but his head is spinning with both a professional distaste for Jongdae getting a tattoo-- _that tattoo_ for an entirely ridiculous non-reason, and the idea that Jongdae maybe came back for him. Maybe he's hearing this wrong.

Jongdae barely paid attention to Junmyeon when he was here before, but he's making up for it now. It makes Junmyeon want to pull the counter blinds down and go pace out back, the way Jongdae's eyes are scanning him. "Baekhyun insisted on coming with me however much I tried to put him off. I couldn't tell him who you are, he's been trying to set me up on dates for.." Jongdae's eyes roll skyward as he thinks about that. "He's a persistent guy."

That's not relevant information, Junmyeon reminds himself. "Do you really need a touch up?" He asks, and it's strange, how stressful the idea of this had been and now he's not even shaking. Maybe he died at some point and didn't notice he's been here as a haunting. "I have an appointment in twenty minutes, I need to set up."

Jongdae pats his shoulder just above the design. "I'll have you know I've been taking exemplary care of it." Junmyeon feels a little uneasy as Jongdae peers further over the counter. "Your big guard puppy isn't here today?"

"He's off sick." Junmyeon looks down to his hands. There's nothing nearby to occupy them with, but he feels squirmy with Jongdae staring at him. Really Junmyeon wants Jongdae to just let his life return to its old, simple, moping ways now; do the decent thing and say he'll understand if Junmyeon wants nothing to do with him, this has happened and now it's over. But really Jongdae's every bit as entitled to be hurt. To want answers. They were both responsible for the rift; Junmyeon's just always found it easier to imagine Jongdae's been getting all the dick he wants and never looked back to what they had.

"Well, I'd better leave you to do your thing," Jongdae says, to Junmyeon's relief. His eyes crinkle exactly how Junmyeon remembers when he smiles. It doesn't make it feel as though no time has passed or nothing has changed, like the reunions in movies and books that Junmyeon's often bitterly longed for. Jongdae is as good as a stranger now. Just a stranger with a smile that makes Junmyeon remember what 19 felt like.

Jongdae's good -- used to be good, that is -- at delaying his reactions. Junmyeon wonders if that's what this is, maybe, and Jongdae's not fine at all. That seems too hopeful, though, and he really couldn't stand having hope.

"Meet me sometime?" Jongdae asks, and the sharpness in his features now-- Junmyeon fidgets with his fingers again. He remembers that, too. "So we can talk. If you want. I'd appreciate if we could."

"When?" Junmyeon asks. It doesn't sound much like _I can't do this, I never stopped loving you and this isn't fair_ at all.

 

⊛

 

Junmyeon had been too stunned to do anything but agree, really. At the time he'd had enough anger under his skin to think they could fight things out, but right now he couldn't feel less ready to confront this. He's an unashamed coward when it comes to emotions, and he'd probably rather have continued making tragic playlists and using this story as date repellent than actually get closure. After seven years, closure feels like it'd leave him a little empty. He's already got a little weepy on the subway here and had to stare out the window until he was more composed again.

This is a big deal. This is the biggest deal, and Junmyeon regrets that he didn't tell Chanyeol or Jongin about it, because he could really do with some moral support while he's just pacing around waiting. His phone buzzes only once in the next five minutes -- a Line notification from Haagen Dazs. He's not going to say that wasn't appreciated.

It's too cold for icecream today, though. Really it's far too cold to be lingering outside at all. Junmyeon's just starting to wonder if Jongdae just set this up to leave him out here to get frostbite when a very loud, very distinctive whine sounds behind him.

Jongdae's pink-cheeked and looks ridiculously cute bundled up in winter clothes that Junmyeon can only assume are on loan from Baekhyun. "Other side of the river, Junmyeon." Jongdae flaps a gloved hand in the direction he's just come from. There's a big glittery snowflake design on the back of the glove. Junmyeon sniffles and fusses over his cold nose to cover a laugh. "You are literally the worst with plans," Jongdae scowls, "Smart phones are a thing now, it's not even like you have an excuse."

Back in college Junmyeon was notorious for keeping everything of vital importance on scraps of paper he'd had to hand and promptly losing them again. Junmyeon could have made a note on his phone, yes, but it hardly seemed like something he was going to be able to keep off his mind. "I'm at least 80% sure you didn't specify a side," he protests. Jongdae looks 90% ready to throw a tantrum and leave. "But we're here now. Let's walk, I'm going to freeze to death."

 

"I've thought about you so often. Is that weird?" Jongdae's scarf is only just down low enough that Junmyeon can still see his mouth, and that he's smiling. He flicks a look at Junmyeon that makes his stomach jolt. "After four or so years it started to feel weird. Like, thinking about you now and then because I was mad, or just thinking back to that time, that wouldn't be weird?" Jongdae's mouth disappears into the fabric. "I just used to wonder how you were."

"Working, eating or crying, generally. Sometimes all at once." Junmyeon swallows hard. "Same, though. I guess it's weird."

Jongdae shrugs. "Less weird if we both did."

Junmyeon nods. He watches the ground as they walk. It's closure for both of them, getting to do this and move on. Jongdae came back to bury this for good, so do they have to go into all of this stuff? He owes it to Jongdae, though, now. He can't keep not blaming himself if Jongdae's felt the same. He's thought about Junmyeon all this time too, and Junmyeon's not entirely sure he wanted to know.

"I never stopped caring about you, you know?" Junmyeon says after another hard swallow to get the nausea down. "I didn't know what to do-- the longer the gaps between messages got the more it seemed like that was what we wanted."

Jongdae shakes his head. "You know, if we'd done this a few years ago I'd have probably tried to punch you. Before now. But again, for that," he says, fists clenched in the soft wool gloves. "I didn't know what to do other than give you space. You seemed like you were asking for that."

"And you seemed happy to have it," Junmyeon shoots back. "You were off living your dreams and whatever. Like it was totally fine to turn people down because you had to get home and Skype a guy you didn't even have plans to come back for."

"You know I went there to study, not to fuck around?" Maybe this wasn't a good conversation to have in public. Most other people are sensible enough to not hang around in temperatures like this, though. Jongdae's raised voice startles a bird, but thankfully no small children or disapproving parents.

Junmyeon kicks at the loose gravel on the path. "You managed plenty of both when we got together."

"Because I was dating you! I wanted to make time for you." Junmyeon's surprised Jongdae's not melting the snow around them with how much fire he's breathing. "Can you stop being such a coward and just tell me what happened? I haven't liked feeling like a mistake all this time." Only then Jongdae's tone twists into something far more hurt than angry. Junmyeon wanted to relieve him of commitment, but he gave him insecurity to carry around in its place. "If you were just experimenting and--"

"No," Junmyeon cuts that thought off, flushing hot in the cold winter air. No, not being gay is very much not an issue. "It was more complicated than that."

"You were always hard work with your feelings," Jongdae sighs. Getting Junmyeon to open up generally took as long as it takes to eat through an entire pizza. Junmyeon dealing with his teenage self involved a hell of a lot of sleepovers and late night pizza deliveries. "You've had long enough to uncomplicate the details by now, right?" Jongdae's eyebrow arches; a demand, not a question.

Junmyeon hates talking like this, so exposed. He has a playlist that would be perfect. "What we had wasn't the same for us," he says without the help of a power ballad in the background. He's sure it would make this talk go better. "I was so insecure about things, it felt like so much of us was me relying on you to tell me I was ok. I didn't think I'd ever--" Didn't think at 19 and followed through as he's grown older. "I _have_ never been out the way you are, that's just who I am. Once it wasn't just circumstances keeping us together it didn't seem fair."

He pauses there, pre-emptively giving Jongdae silence to yell into. Jongdae's just frowning. He's wrapped the scarf more securely around himself, hiding his mouth from view again.

"I felt like I'd be restricting you," Junmyeon continues, "Or you'd feel unloved, or like you were having to hide. Something like that. I felt hurt and worried all the time wondering how much better it was for you without someone like me around."

"You could have just asked if I felt that way. I admit if you dropped hints I probably missed them, but I just thought things were going fine as they were."

"I didn't want you to have to feel like the bad guy, breaking up with me because of something like that. Or to have to choose between missing out or cheating -- I'm not saying you would," Junmyeon adds quickly when Jongdae's eyes narrow. "Those were just the kinds of things I was thinking back then, if we're being honest." Junmyeon drags his heels again, kicking at gravel. "I realised as we got older that we should have talked. Nineteen isn't the best age for serious talks about the future."

Jongdae laughs. Even muffled by the scarf it startles Junmyeon, sending heat flooding to his cheeks. "You want to make out this relationship has ever been serious when we both have a slice of pizza tattooed on us to represent it?" Jongdae quirks a brow at Junmyeon, then sighs and gestures. "I saw you have it. Idiot."

Junmyeon's steps slow. Now the angry part is winding down he feels so drained from this. The talking and the walk, honestly, he couldn't recall the last time he had to go further than subway to work without at least pausing to check his phone.

"We messed up, but I didn't want to forget how significant the experience was. Wait, I worded that weird." He scrunches his nose. He doesn't know how to say it any better. "They're not exactly identical, though. My mentor did mine, we have different styles."

Jongdae doesn't ask, but Junmyeon takes the hint from the long stare he gives Junmyeon's arm where it disappears into his jacket. Junmyeon's hand is clammy from being stuffed in his pocket. The cold air makes him jog a little on the spot, like it'll help. It doesn't, but Jongdae's gloved hand closing around his sure does. This is fine.

"At least you finally saw my studio." Junmyeon sniffs. The cold isn't the only reason his nose is burning inside. "I am an idiot. I didn't tell you at the time, but I only picked one where I did because it meant we'd be closer. I was always kind of mad you never found time to come see, after I went to that effort, but I didn't tell you."

"I really have been threatening to get it done for years." Jongdae turns Junmyeon's hand, bringing it close so he can study the ink. It's lost a little definition with age, and the colour choices must have been a little different in the first place. "Baekhyun's tried so hard to make me suitable, it was mostly just to stress him out, really." Jongdae prods at the pizza slice with one soft wool finger. "He doesn't appreciate the irony of why I have it in the first place, obviously."

They've done nearly an entire circuit of the lake while they've been talking -- Junmyeon's going to blame that for why his chest feels tight. "I thought you and Baekhyun were together when you came in." Junmyeon's definitely only saying this to continue conversation. There's no point caring that he's not. "He seems very nice." No point in making this all hard again -- this is closure, so Jongdae can go back to China or wherever he's living now not haunted by the sense he was a mistake; so Junmyeon can pretend he's over it now.

There's no point in telling Jongdae any of the selfish things he's felt for the last seven years. "I was relieved," Junmyeon's mouth works anyway. His eyes are suddenly heavy and blurry with tears, but it's too damn cold for that. "I fucked up, but I never stopped caring about you. I didn't want to see you. I knew I'd still feel the same-- I know I owed you an explanation, and I guess it feels better to know you didn't feel that way, but--"

Jongdae's still holding Junmyeon's cold fingers, though more like he's just forgotten to let go. Junmyeon can't look at him, because Junmyeon's kind of cowardly with his feelings even with them spilling out like this.

"--but I never moved on, and I knew that was selfish and I knew seeing you would make it feel worse than it already does." Junmyeon swallows thickly. It's sure some kind of closure, fucking up in person this time. At least Jongdae knows he tried, right? At least he'll know Junmyeon is definitely worth moving on from and forgetting this time. "I'm sorry. I hope you got what you needed from this, even if I.." He's going to remember what it looked like, having his hand in Jongdae's again. He doesn't look up to Jongdae's face again, because he doesn't want to remember how mad he probably looks right now. 

Junmyeon makes it to the subway in record time, his throat aching and his chest on fire. He puts his pass in the wrong way twice and gets ushered through the barrier at the side so he stops holding up the line. He heads for the opposite stairs to the ones he'd arrived from, to the line that'll take him to his parent's home. 

 

⊛

 

Junmyeon doesn't tell Chanyeol that the Jongdae situation has worsened, but he doesn't really need to. Time seems to speed up again, after the hiatus it had been on while Junmyeon fretted over who was coming through the studio doors every day. Three weeks of being offered endless granola, late night sessions with Jongin, and Chanyeol gradually filling the place with Christmas decorations passes without Junmyeon noticing. (Well, he notices the fairy lights that have been lovingly threaded around the decorative skull that lives on the end of the counter. Even she looks more in the spirit of things than Junmyeon).

Junmyeon's taken to doing a lot of the jobs he'd delegated to Chanyeol just to occupy himself with during their quietest period of the year. It's not effecting Chanyeol's pay, so he hasn't been in the least bothered by getting free reign of the studio while Junmyeon skulks out back. He's a better face to have out front for greeting customers really, compared to the sullen half-smiles Junmyeon's been serving up.

In the new year he can try again for a fresh start, he thinks as he clicks the dial around on the steriliser. He fucked up again, and he's suffering what he's due for now. The sharp smell of bleach in the back room is making his nose sting, and the warmth from the heater doesn't reach this far. It's peaceful moping ground, though.

Or was, anyway. A sound a lot like a stack of books and maybe half of Chanyeol falling from a desk ruins the atmosphere a little.

" _Capybara_ ," Chanyeol yelps just as Junmyeon pushes open the the door back out into the studio. What?

"He's gone, Chanyeol," Junmyeon snaps, feeling along the neckline of his sweater to cover that he's actually staving off a fucking heart attack, he's going to fire this kid for real one day, he swears to god. "It's not--" he waves dismissively towards the studio front and the small bundled up guy with curly hair about to push the door. Wait, shit, that is a code Capybara.

"Hi." Jongdae raises a hand. Junmyeon looses sight of him from behind Chanyeol's shoulders. He probably looks unkindly handsome, as usual.

"What do you want," Chanyeol demands. Junmyeon elbows past him, grabbing handfuls of hoodie material, trying to pull him away from the counter. Even with mitigating circumstances you don't treat customers that way, much as Junmyeon would love to scream and climb out the back window right now. "Boss," Chanyeol argues plaintively. He's never known the full details, but Chanyeol's a loyal pup and doesn't need to. Kim Jongdae upsets his boss; that's as much detail as he needs.

Jongdae tugs his scarf away from his mouth, his cheeks flooded pink from the heat in here. Unfortunately he isn't in the least fazed by Chanyeol's full, puffed up height. Which is kinda bad, it's the only weapon Chanyeol has.

Of all bad circumstances to meet your ex in, from behind a guard dog as clueless as he is defensive after walking out on your feelings _again_ must be high up there. "Sorry, he's.. easily excited," Junmyeon apologises weakly, holding his face with both hands. He increases the pressure. Unfortunately this is real.

Jongdae accepts with a dismissive shake of his head. "Someone must have been telling him bad things about me," he says as he unwinds his scarf. Chanyeol takes Junmyeon's lead to brace for potential yelling and makes no further effort to stop Jongdae leaning up to rest on the counter.

At a loss as to if he should apologise, treat Jongdae as a customer, or just sink down behind the counter and die, Junmyeon doesn't offer anything.

Jongdae's fingers barely poke out from his sleeves as he folds his hands on the counter top. "You've been here a pretty long time, right?"

"Uh. Yeah." Junmyeon feels up into the back of his hair, twisting strands around his fingers. He's too exhausted by being pathetically in love and amazingly shitty at dealing with it for more of these roundabout discussions. Can't Jongdae just give him a decent black eye and leave? But yeah, it has been a while. Somehow 2010 doesn't seem that long ago to think about. Junmyeon's apprentice was his first of three -- he'd have taken Amber on, absolutely, if she hadn't gotten a good offer overseas. He didn't blame her for choosing it. "It'd give away my age if I said how long for," Junmyeon eventually replies, shrugging a shoulder. It's not worth digging up how many years it's been _again_. Good thing he's so funny.

"I just started working at the language school a few blocks away," Jongdae says. He looks exactly how he always has when he wants Junmyeon to squirm, and oh, he still has that art perfected. "And I'm not familiar with the area. I was wondering if someone who knew their way around could give me a tour."

"I know the school," Junmyeon says, because it was the only part of that sentence that made any sense. Bewildered, Junmyeon looks to Chanyeol more for confirmation that Jongdae's saying what he thinks he's saying than anything. Chanyeol gawps. Jongdae drums his fingers on the counter.

"Like, maybe you," he presses. He doesn't want to end up holding the big pup's leash. "Maybe you could show me a good place to get coffee or something."

"Oh," Chanyeol perks up. "There's a--" Jongdae shoots him a look. Chanyeol snaps his mouth back shut.

"Somewhere I could study. Sit and talk, that kind of thing."

Somewhere where Junmyeon would have to sit at a table and couldn't just run away? Sounds awful. And fairer, probably. And-- what the hell, if Chanyeol weren't witnessing this too Junmyeon would think he was just having another of those stress dreams where Jongdae comes back and he wakes up with his heart pounding. His heart is already going a mile a minute and Jongdae's still right here.

"Ok, uh--" Junmyeon pulls the pen from the wire spirals of Chanyeol's schedule book and grabs an appointment card from the counter. He clicks the pen on his palm and it definitely feels real, but he can't see any harm in reconfirming. "When are you free?" He asks. It doesn't sound like _I need to go out back and scream into my hands for five minutes first_ at all.


End file.
